


Let It Be

by kittenofdoomage



Series: Raising Hell (A.K.A a Winchester) [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Celia Winchester - Freeform, Emotional, Family, Love, OFC - Freeform, Other, end of life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:06:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8197106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Written for “Ivonne’s Beatles Song Challenge”. My song was “Let It Be”. Years down the line, Dean’s going out on his own terms. Last part of the “Raising Hell” series.





	

 

The bunker was still the same, although the walls told a different story now. Where once it had been marks from fights and curses, the shattered tile where it had been hit with a hammer once, Dean preferred to focus on the more loving stories - the marks where Celia’s height had been charted, and the crayon scars where she’d drawn intricate pictures of mermaids and unicorns.

Celia’s room where she’d spent her formative years, was still pink, but with faded patches from posters of boy bands, and television shows and movies she’d loved. A bookshelf still stood, full of favourites that he couldn’t bear to part with and stuffed animals, and a box of toys next to it that they’d kept.

The carpet had to be replaced of course, when she’d spilt too many chocolate milks over it, too many accidents with Uncle Sam’s spaghetti special. It was still pink, but a more durable material.

But it had been many long years since Celia had called this home.

Now it was a room for her children, Dean’s grandchildren. They didn’t stay often - he’d gotten his wish after all, and she’d never followed in his footsteps, or her mother’s. She hadn’t had to hunt in the end, when he and Sam had found a way to shut the gates. Demons and monsters weren’t so much of a problem any more, and he’d been content with that if it kept his family safe. It had taken a long time to find something else to do with his life, but he’d finally been happy.

Celia lived in New York with her husband, and their three children, but they were on their way to spend the holidays with him. Well, Celia and the kids were, but Jack, Celia’s husband, had to work, no matter how hard he’d tried to get the time off. Dean understood - there’d been times he hadn’t been able to turn down a hunt for a school play, or had to miss parent teacher night because he had to go out of town. Granted, Jack’s job didn’t involve gutting vicious monsters - he was in advertising. Blood didn’t factor in unless they were promoting something for Halloween.

Dean was thankful for that, that his daughter got the normal life he’d always wanted for her. She’d known about the monsters, known about her dad’s line of work, but she’d always kept away, never showing an instinct to be a hunter. She wanted to be a journalist, and she’d gone on to be one hell of a reporter. And a hell of a mom. His three grandkids were just about the most intelligent little snappers he’d ever met.

‘What time are they getting here?’ Sam’s voice made him jump, and he made a noise of disapproval as his little brother, who was still taller than him, sniggered. He’d aged well, had Sam, his long hair now practically white, and he had to use a cane because of the damaged thigh muscle that had never healed properly after a rugarou hunt.

‘About ten. Later flight was cheaper, and easier with the kids,’ Dean smiled, shutting the door to the still-pink room, walking with Sam down the corridor. They moved slower these days, but then, they were both past sixty, more than they’d ever hoped for.

Sam hadn’t even gotten settled down. When hunting had stopped, he’d started an online business in rare volumes, and it was enough to keep them in food and whatever else they needed. He’d never indicated that he needed a woman in his life, and he was happy to had Celia and her children as his legacy. He’d been so proud to stand with Dean and watch her graduate from college, and he’d shed a tear or two when he watched her marry Jack. He was godfather to all three of her children, along with Castiel, who still kept tabs on them all, although less frequently these days.

‘You haven’t told her anything, have you?’ Sam asked, and Dean shook his head, not wanting to speak about it. ‘Dean, she’s gonna notice something is off.’

‘No, she won’t. There’s nothing to notice. I’m still strong and...it’s not affecting me so badly yet.’

The  _ it _ Dean spoke of was an aggressive tumour, that had started in his liver. To be expected, after years of alcohol abuse really, but still shocking to the both of them when they’d received the diagnosis. There was nothing to be done, and they’d given him only a few months to live.

“A few months” was almost up.

‘I still think you should tell her,’ Sam said, persisting with the subject as he walked into the library, finding his favourite chair and settling into it with a grimace. ‘I mean, she’s gonna be upset, but at least she can prepare.’

‘Yeah, she’ll give up everything to be here and look after me. I don’t want that.’ Dean looked down at an old copy of a Dickens novel that had been left on the table, moving it to once side as he sat down opposite his brother. ‘I don’t want her to feel obligated to come and deal with an old man who can’t piss by himself when it gets to that point.’

‘But you’re happy to let me do it?’ Sam joked, and Dean grinned in response.

‘Let’s face it, Sammy, you’ve had more practice.’

Sam smiled, still holding onto the dimples Dean remembered the girls dying for when they were younger, and could still eat a burger without getting indigestion. ‘So, what’s the plan?’

‘She’s got a car hired out from the airport. I don’t think she trusts me with the kids in my “deathtrap”.’ Dean shook his head. ‘Thirty years and that girl is still so disrespectful to my Baby.’ Sam laughed, sitting forward. ‘Kids are gonna take her old room. She’s gonna use Cas’, you know, since he hasn’t been by in…’ Dean frowned. ‘When did we last see him?’

‘About a month ago.’ Sam said, sighing heavily. ‘You told him he was a dick for not getting old, and he flew out of here with a bug up his ass because of it.’

Dean shook his head. ‘So overdramatic.’

‘He wanted to help, Dean.’

‘And we both know he couldn’t. He’d try, because he’s our friend, and he’d be sad when it didn’t work…’ Dean smiled a little sadly, looking away from his brother as he reached over and turned his laptop on. ‘I’m just taking what I can in the time I got left. We don’t do that “bringing each other back” shit, anymore, remember?’

Sam’s answering smile was loose, almost like he wished he could go back on that promise. Granted, neither of them had come close to death in years, but knowing that in a few short weeks, he’d be alone...he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. But they’d promised each other, no matter how much it hurt, they wouldn’t try to bring each other back.

‘Do you think she’ll keep her promise?’ Dean asked suddenly, frowning as he tapped at his keyboard. ‘Billie, I mean. We haven’t seen her in decades.’

‘You mean about being nothing? No heaven, no hell...just death and that’s it?’ Sam shrugged. ‘Who knows? Who knows if she’s even running things?’ He ran his finger along the page of his book, his mouth a grimace of concern. ‘Are you bothered if she does?’

Dean sighed. ‘I guess, I’m not gonna really know, right? If it’s nothing, then I’ll be nothing. So I won’t be bothered.’ His words seemed to shroud the room in silence, and both brothers sat, contemplating what each of them faced when the other was no longer with them. For their entire lives, minus a few periods, they’d been together. Everything was changing now.

The noise of Dean’s classic rock ringtone made them both jump, and the elder brother grinned as he pulled out his phone. ‘It’s her.’

*****

‘Grandpa!’ The excited squeals of the three children as they ran down the stairs made Dean laugh as he caught them in his arms. The impact nearly sent him to the floor, and Sam stood behind laughing, before moving to help Celia with the suitcase as she struggled to get it down the stairs.

‘Hey, Uncle Sammy,’ she reached up on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling widely at him. ‘How’s the leg?’ 

‘Acts up when it’s cold, but nothing I can’t handle,’ he grinned, turning to see Dean picking up all three of the kids. He rolled his eyes, knowing his brother shouldn’t have been exerting himself like that, but he reeled his comment in before it could escape.

‘Dad,’ Celia’s smile grew as she stepped towards her father, shooing her kids off so she could embrace him. Dean gave her a watery expression, folding her into his long arms tightly, almost holding on for a moment too long. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m good,’ he lied, smoothly, pulling back to get a good look at her. ‘You’re looking great, baby girl.’ The kids were practically begging for attention as he turned to them. ‘And how’s the entourage doing?’

The eldest, John, stepped forward, saluting with a grin. ‘I got on the wrestling team at school, Grandpa!’ He dropped the salute, waiting for his grandfather’s reaction.

Dean beamed at this news, looking to his daughter for confirmation and she nodded. ‘That’s fantastic, buddy. All geared up for high school next year?’

John waved his hand dismissively. ‘School is easy, Grandpa. My coach says I’m good enough to even get a scholarship when I’m older!’ He grinned before his sister, 8 year old Ella, pushed him harshly. ‘What?’

‘He never shuts up about it,’ Ella pouted. ‘Like I’m supposed to care, when he didn’t even come to my show.’

‘Show?’ Dean asked, glancing at Celia.

She cleared her throat, levelling her children with a glare, just as the youngest, Robbie, came trundling over, yawning widely. She bent down, picking him up and holding him close. ‘She had a fashion show. John was at practice and missed it. It’s been World War Four ever since.’ Her hand rubbed along Robbie’s back as she soothed him. ‘I’m sorry, Dad. He’s exhausted. Lot of travelling for a four year old.’

Dean waved his hand. ‘It’s okay, sweetheart. Tell you what, I’ll take these two and sort them out, you go get Robbie down in the bedroom. Beds are already set up.’

‘Thanks, Dad.’ Celia smiled, pecking him on the cheek as she walked past.

Dean clapped his hands together as she left, glaring at his two eldest grandchildren. They swallowed worriedly as Sam came up beside his brother, both of them folding their arms over their chests. ‘Now. What are we gonna do to sort this out?’

*****

‘Cas dropped by last week.’

The words made Dean’s heart drop into his stomach, and he swallowed around the lump in his throat before turning to his daughter, raising his eyebrows in surprise. ‘Really? Haven’t seen him in a while.’

‘He said he saw you last month.’ Celia walked closer, her arms crossed around her middle and worry in her eyes as she regarded her father. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

Dean’s head dropped as his eyes closed briefly and he sighed, his entire body sagging in defeat. He moved away from the kitchen counter, taking a seat at the table and Celia moved with him, sitting opposite and waiting for his answer.

‘You know, I remember when you had your tonsils out.’ Celia frowned at his reply, but didn’t interrupt, keeping her eyes on him as he continued. ‘You were so scared in that hospital, but so damn brave. I was so proud of you that day.’ Dean smiled wistfully, reaching over to take his daughter’s hand, squeezing it softly. ‘I’ve been proud of you every damn day since you were born, baby girl. You’re the best thing I ever did.’

‘Dad, I don’t -’

Dean shook his head, indicating that he wasn’t finished. ‘I never thought I’d get so lucky. Having you, watching you grow up, watching you live the life that you deserved.’ His smile faltered and he wiped at his eyes with his free hand. ‘I’m lucky to have made this far, to have watched you do all the things you’ve done, raise three gorgeous kids...I guess, I didn’t want to drag you into this. I didn’t want you to have to deal with me going downhill.’

‘You thought I’d begrudge you that, Dad, seriously?’ Celia looked a little pissed, despite the tears in her eyes. ‘You’re a stubborn old dick, you know that?’ He burst out laughing at her insult through his burgeoning tears, nodding as Celia stood up, not letting go of his hand, moving round the table to hug him tightly. ‘I’m gonna do whatever I can Dad. You can’t stop me.’

‘I never could, baby girl.’

‘Jack’s flying out next week,’ she said. ‘We’ve taken the time from work, and we’re going to stay here, all of us. We’re not leaving you.’

Dean frowned, pulling back and looking up at her. ‘Celia, you can’t give up your life to -’

‘Nothing you can say can stop me. I will kick your ass, old man.’ She smiled, crouching down. ‘Dad, we’re gonna be here. You’ve spent your whole life fighting these scary things, and I could never help with that. But this time, I can try. I can do something. Hell, even if it’s just making soup, I can help.’

He softened, reaching out to cup her cheek. ‘You’ve always helped, even if you didn’t know it.’

‘It’d be nice not to have to be the only one dealing with sponge baths,’ Sam interrupted from the doorway, earning himself a bitch face from his brother. ‘I said you shouldn’t lie to her. And Cas isn’t exactly good at keeping secrets.’

Celia chuckled. ‘He said he’d wrestled with the decision, but he knew in the end you’d be too stubborn for your own good.’

‘And here I was, hoping you’d hire a sexy nurse,’ Dean grumbled, standing up from the bench. ‘I guess, at least this way, I get to see more of my grandkids before the reaper comes.’

*****

‘You know, I  _ was _ gonna let you fade into nothingness.’

The voice made Dean turn, and he opened his eyes a crack, groaning automatically, before realising that the pain he was expecting was not there. His eyes opened fully, and he pushed up onto his hands, looking around the room he’d spent the last three weeks laying in.

Billie the reaper reclined against the wall opposite his bed, smirking at him. She hadn’t aged a day, obviously, and he found himself smiling at her warmly.

He’d been waiting for this. For three weeks, since he’d lost the use of his legs, the tumour in his liver son large it compressed the nerves in his spine, he’d been waiting. The end was nigh for Dean Winchester, but he couldn’t say he was afraid. He was worried, sure, of seeing the pain on his family’s faces as he left them, but apparently, the option to go peacefully in his sleep was on the menu.

Testing a theory, he moved his legs, easily climbing from the bed and standing, looking down at himself. Instead of the loose sweats and black shirt he remembered being in, he was wearing the layers he’d adopted in his younger years - plaid flannel over a tee, jeans and...boots?

Dean turned, looking back to the bed, where he still lay, unmoving, not breathing. Dead.

‘This is it,’ he muttered, breathing deeply and nodding slightly. ‘I didn’t think it would happen so soon.’

‘You got it, sugar,’ Billie replied, pushing up off of the wall. ‘Ready for your greatest hits?’ Dean turned, raising an eyebrow at her. ‘Tradition and all.’

He chuckled, pointing to the door. ‘Behind door number one?’ Billie bowed her head a little, gesturing to the closed bedroom door. 

‘After you, Winchester.’

Dean nodded, turning to the door. He approached with slow, measured steps, unsure of what he was going to find behind it. There were more than a few memories he never wanted to revisit, and there was a fear curling in his belly that he was about to be confronted by them. His hand was shaking as he reached out for the knob, turning it slowly.

The door creaked as it opened and revealed the usual empty hallway outside. Dean frowned, glancing to Billie, who gestured for him to continue. He stepped outside, looking around, hearing the sound of laughter echoing down the hall.

Following it, he was vaguely aware of Billie following behind, and he realised that it was early morning, and the laughter he was hearing was his grandchildren in the kitchen, where Sam and Celia were making them pancakes. Jack approached from the other end of the hallway, and Dean paused briefly, concerned he’d be seen.

‘You’re not on their plane, anymore, Winchester,’ Billie said, coming up beside him.

‘These aren’t memories,’ Dean replied, following behind Jack as he walked into the kitchen, taking a seat with his wife and children as Sam poured him a coffee. ‘I thought -’

‘No, they’re your greatest hits,’ the reaper said, quietly. ‘You got your memories, Dean. You don’t need to see all that again. But this, this laughter and love in this room?’ Billie smiled. ‘All you, sweetheart. You created that.’

Dean’s eyes stung with emotion as he kept his eyes on his family. It seemed to move in slow motion as Celia helped cut up Robbie’s pancakes, and John sucked syrup from his sticky fingers. Ella was busy offering her father one of her strawberries, and Jack accepted happily, reaching over to lace his fingers through Celia’s.

Sam stood straight, shivering almost unnoticeably, before looking towards the doorway, where Dean stood with Billie. Something crossed his face, and Dean realised that maybe not all of his brother’s extrasensory powers had disappeared all those years ago. The expression faded quickly, but it wouldn’t be long before Sam was coming to check on his brother, and finding him cold.

Billie took Dean’s forearm, looking over at his once-again youthful face, smiling gently, and nodding at his family. 

‘Doing something good isn’t always a simple dead. You raised that girl right, and you gave her a chance. You’ve made a lot of mistakes, but she - she wasn’t one of them, sugar.’ She chuckled. ‘And you don’t need to worry about Sam anymore. Retirement romances aren’t uncommon.’

Dean nodded, sighing with a smile as he kept his eyes on his daughter and her husband, the three grandchildren he adored. Billie spoke again, but he didn’t look at her as she let go of his arm and headed for the door.

‘I was gonna let you fade, Dean Winchester. Turns out, you did a good thing. So I can’t. Orders. We all got ‘em. You get your heaven.’

Dean smiled at the dark reaper, who returned the expression fondly. Years of battles melted away from him as he walked to her side, looking back at the family he knew would go on without him.

The heaven he was headed for was only second best to the one he was leaving.


End file.
